Flying High
by Blue Midnight
Summary: Sequel to Playing the Matchmaker: Not everything turns out like roses in relationships. Slash
1. Chapter 1

Flying High  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, merely tormenting the characters.  
  
Author's note: This is the sequel to Playing the Matchmaker, so it might be in your best interest to read that first. It takes place around 2- 3 weeks from the previous fic. That's about it so far. Sorry this has taken so long to come out, stupid school work. Warning there is Slash, move away now if it is not your kettle of fish or kettle of anything really. Also please note that the only people who know that Carl and Blake are dating are Darren, Miranda, Hoodsey and Courtney.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"I win!"  
  
Blake scowled as Carl, with dramatic flair, put down his last remaining domino, all the while smirking at the younger boy.  
  
"I think you cheated Foutley," Blake said it sternly, yet Carl could see in his eyes that he wasn't that serious.  
  
"Ha. You're just jealous because I'm better than you," he picked up one of the black dominos and tossed back down on the floor of the increasingly cramped doghouse.  
  
"Oh yes, a better cheater, perhaps though not because of any particular skill you have. Anyway, I don't trust you." Carl looked rather hurt at this, or he would of if little sounds of laughter weren't escaping him.  
  
"Then what do you trust Blakey-boy?" he moved closer to the blonde boy, scattering their game, he was pleasantly surprised to see Blake blush and smirked. Almost slithering towards him Carl cupped Blake's cheeks with both hands, and leaned in. Barely touching lips parted as a knock on the entrance of the dog house was heard, as was Ginger's voice.  
  
"Carl, Mom says you have to come in." A pale hand pushed open the door, and they could see Ginger.  
  
"Why?" asked Carl, rather innocently if it was possible that Carl could ever be innocent.  
  
"She wants to talk to you, something about rats and the gymnasium. Look just go Carl, I'm on the phone to Darren. He said he wanted to tell me something."  
  
The two boys exchanged glances between each other. Darren had kept his relation with Miranda a secret from Ginger, what with them having had a long relationship and Ginger had been showing signs of waning to get back together. Personally he thought it was because Ian didn't seem that interested in her. Blake on the other hand had thought she had probably realised the loss.  
  
"Oh, what about?" asked Carl. Ginger flicked her curls over her ears and narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Carl, it's none of your business. Now go and talk to Mom!" Carl, half laughing put both hands in the air in mock surrender, and half crawled, half hunched out of the doghouse, Blake following behind.  
  
When the three got in to the house, Blake and Carl had been walking very slowly for some unknown reason, Lois, thrust a letter beneath Carl's nose. Carl, rather annoyed brushed the letter away. From the background they could here Ginger talking on the phone, her voice becoming increasingly anguished and angry.  
  
"Read it," Lois told Carl, her voice strangely quiet.  
  
"Maybe I should go Carl," Blake looked as Carl, with trepidation took the letter.  
  
Carl grinned. "Nah, you can stay." His eyes scanned the letter, words such as irresponsible, great potential, troublesome flew of the page, and then the final word did. The letter dropped from his hand.  
  
"Carl, are you alright," asked Blake, worriedly looking at Carl's face, which was looking rather greenish.  
  
"No," he whispered, seeming at the moment younger than he was, "I've been expelled!"  
Okay, that the end of this first chapter. Other chapters should be longer, so think of this as a teaser of some sorts. Don't forget to review and show support for this fic. See ya in the next instalment. 


	2. Chapter 2

Flying High  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Carl dropped the letter; it drifted slowly onto the ground. Expelled, expelled. The word kept running through his head. It had said that he had been violent to another child, punching them into the eye. He'd never done that.  
  
"Is this some kind of joke," Carl demanded of his mother, he felt Blake put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
Lois shook her head, "It's not kiddo, I called up the school and asked them, especially after it came in a letter, which is highly unusual," her voice softened as Carl looked dejectedly at the ground, "I'll ring them up again tomorrow," she turned to make her way into the kitchen where a slab of beef was cooking, "It might have been some sort of misunderstanding."  
  
Carl watched his mother leave and then stormed upstairs into his bedroom. The old wallpaper still decorated it and the smell was slightly rancid as a stale bag of chips lay on the ground. He picked the pulpy mess up and threw it at the wall. It stayed there for a second before sliding off. The stain would take ages to come of.  
  
"Decorating, are we Foutley?"  
  
The recently expelled boy looked up to see Blake smirking at the mess on the wall.  
  
"Nah," he said jokingly, "just doing my own Picasso." He sat on the bed, bouncing around once or twice before sitting still. "You know what the worst thing is. That most of the stuff was made up, I never been physical with everyone,"  
  
"Except me," Blake interrupted; he barely dodged as a fluffy pillow was thrown at his head.  
  
"I thought I was the one who was supposed to make those remarks, remember," Carl said teasingly. The blonde scoffed and stuck his nose in the air and put his hands on his hips.  
  
"You can make those remarks, but as a Gripling I will always make better ones," he squealed as Carl reached up and pulled him on to the bed with him. The pillows soon become instruments of war, and after a good ten minutes both boys lay beside each other. Carl idly pulled small chicken feathers out his boyfriend's hair.  
  
"Blake," murmured Carl.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
**\\**  
  
Miranda idly played with her hair and tried to keep from smirking, let alone laughing out loud. Darren was still talking on the phone, Ginger's voice heard quite clearly as Darren explained, or at least tried to explain what was going on.  
  
"Listen Ginger, I want us to be friends, really I do, but I'm with Miri now."  
  
"Miri! Miri? You've only been together for about a day or so. You're on petnames already?"  
  
"Ginger, we got together at the concert when..never mind. This time is different, and I want you to accept that Ginger, you're special to me."  
  
Miranda pulled a face, and giggled as Darren gave her a mock-stern look, she motioned that he should give the phone to her. Miranda put it to her ears and listened as Ginger talked on about the last time they had been together, and how much trouble Miranda had caused.  
  
"Are you listening to me Darren," when Miranda had kept silent for a long time.  
  
"No, but I am," she murmured into the telephone, she grinned as she heard Ginger's gasp, "and it has been so very interesting to hear you rant on all this time," she let out a cackling laugh she hadn't used since she had been in junior-high. Then she slammed the phone down, Darren was rubbing his ears slowly.  
  
"Can I have a warning next time?" This time when Miranda laughed, it was much more pleasant on the ear.  
  
**\\  
  
End of chapter 2. Weeee, after months of how, what's and wherefores I finally got it sorted out. Courtney and Hoodsey should be appearing next chapter, and don't forget to visit the magic review box on the way out. See ya! 


	3. Chapter 3

Flying High  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Blake stayed with Carl until it got dark, when Winston called the house to bring him back. Carl had cheered up considerably since then, especially when hearing Ginger's side of her telephone conversation.  
  
He stared at the brown stain, wondering if it would change colours the longer it stayed there. Ginger could be heard talking to Dodie and Macie. The words, "irresponsible" and "could trust him" were heard. He winced as Ginger raised her voice and slammed the phone down. Obviously one or both of them had been less on Ginger's side than she might have liked.  
  
The doorbell rang from downstairs and Carl grinned as he heard Hoodsey's voice, muffled from it seemed were crisps. Bounding out of his room, and nearly falling helter-skelter down the stairs, he saw him.  
  
"Blake called me to tell the good news"  
  
"Good news?" Carl looked bewildered at Hoodsey.  
  
"Yeah, you getting expelled. Pretty cool, isn't it?"  
  
Carl mumbled something under his breath. His mind slightly reeling. Blake had called Hoodsey to tell him that. Without considering if Carl wanted to tell anyone else. Besides Hoodsey and he had been friends for beyond forever. This was something he wanted to have told him.  
  
"What's wrong? Anyway, my dad booked these really great tickets, to go on a helicopter over the Sheltered Shrubs valley district, you want to come? This is his part of the month to do the family activity," he held a hand up, "don't ask. Dodie will be coming too, so I need someone I can talk to." Carl ran a hand through his hair.  
  
"I don't think Mom's going to let me go. The whole "your son is a barbaric monstrosity of life," is sort of off-putting, don't you think?" Hoodsey gave a snort of laughter which mutated to a full belly laugh.  
  
"Did it really say that," he pouted slightly, "none of mine say that. Although, they always seem to mention you in some context. It's a sidekick curse; you're never quite in the limelight. No matter what you've done." Hoodsey masked it well, but Carl could clearly detect the bitterness underlying it. He didn't suppose people ever would stop considering him as just Carl's lackey or sidekick. This was a shame as over the years Hoodsey had even started to take control of what they did, and what schemes they pulled.  
  
"Nah, I'm adlibbing. Even though it was about the gist of the letter. You  
want to stay for dinner? Mom's making pickle and cheese dip."  
  
Hoodsey considered this for a moment, before he shook his head, his own dinner of fried onions and kidney beans waiting at home.  
  
"Well, have to go home. I still need to do that History essay. Hey, Blake's good at history. Maybe I can get to help me." Carl raised an eyebrow, knowing that Blake would never do the kind of "help" that Hoodsey wanted. Laughing Hoodsey strolled off. His hands in his pocket, and his mind on the American Red Scare.  
  
Carl slumped himself on the couch, and idly fingered the ornate carvings of Lois and Dave's wedding picture. Recently his stepfather had taken the opportunity to study traditional medicine in Africa. Carl smiled as he thought of the man facing down snakes and tigers. HE turned on the TV, and idly flicked through the channels. He gave a mocking yawn at a gardening show, and curled his lip up at a tasteless chat show.  
  
The next channel made him drop the controller in shock. **\\  
  
End of chapter 3. It's shorter than usual, but I've got the plot working for me now. And some mild hints of what's to come relationship wise. You want to try to guess them. No? Oh well, next chapter appearing when I'm not busy, so see ya! 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four  
  
Principal Milty was talking to a reporter, or more correctly, ramblong to a young female reporter. He was describing something called the "no-nonesense plicy" where by looking at past and present behaviour they could automatically expell the child. Carl took a few deep breathers, before leaning towards the T.V and shouting,  
  
"You lousy git."The reprter was talking about whether this was far or not, and if it had been improved by teh local government or school or directors. Carl noticed wryly that the answer Milty gave was very brief and disnmissive.After another ten minutes he switched it of in disgust. He picked up his explusion letter, true he had done made some teachers life difficult, but he had never done anything really wrong. Except maybe stealing a pig's heart, and it wasn't like they had actually found out about that.  
  
He stalked to the kitchen and made himself a pickle and oninon ring sub, took a bite of it, and immediatly spat it out on to the floor. Heb wondered if his taste buds were failing him.  
  
"That's disgusting, Carl," he turned around to see Ginger looking at him, her hair tied up in a pony-tail and her eyes a tell tale pink. Carl shrugged, but nevertheless, got a towel and wiped it up.  
  
"Happy now?"  
  
Ginger nodded, she sighed wistfully and sat abruptly at the kitchen table, Carl felt a wave of guilt brushing over him. It wasn't her fault that Darren had chosen Miranda, and before that had chosen Simone over her.  
  
* * *  
  
Blake had always thought his sister was deluded, this was clear proof that his sister was actually stark raving mad. Courtney had somehow had gotten it into her head that now he was dating Carl Foutley, he knew about the intricate details of clothing and accesories.  
  
"So what about the camomille skirt with the coffee ruffled blouse, or perhaps a hipper look, low hip jeans with my halterneck, the one with the silver sided beads. Not the grey sided beads, those are entirely different. So Blake, what do you suggest."  
  
Blake looked nervously at his sister, "the blouse and skirt,@ he ducked as his sister threw one of her teddy bears at him.  
  
"No, honestly Blake you should know it's the halter neck and jeans."  
  
"Well, if you already know, why are you asking me." Courtney gave him a dirty look, before cheerfully moving onto to what outfit she should wear for making an impression when walking pass the park.  
  
* * *  
  
Three days after the explusion letter, Blake and Carl were sitting underneath the shady canopy of a willow tree. They were talking about Milty's new policy, and Blake was suggesting that Carl took legal action. Carl had at first laughed at the suggestion, but warmed to the idea as Blake had offhandedly offered to pay for the expenses. Carl knew Blake was rich, but his dismissive attitude to the expenses made him slightly wide- eyed.  
  
"My father knows some people, slightly of the underground sort, but relativlely trustworthy," Carl stifled a laugh, causing Blake to elbow him gently in the ribs.  
  
"Ow," Carl mock-whined, "that hurt."  
  
Blake grinned, "Perhaps I can do something to distract you," he leaned over his lips dangerously close to Carl's. Carl took the initiative, took hold of the blondes head, and moved into the kiss, smiling as Blake made a low murmour in the back of his throat.  
  
They did not notice someone watching them, someone who would make great use of this new information.  
  
* * *  
  
Well that's chapter four down. Excuse any spelling mistakes, my spell checker is down. Not much in one direction in the main plot, but we're getting a few sub-plots. Oh well, see ya. 


End file.
